


Santas and Champaign and Donuts, oh my!

by Purple_Muse



Category: NCIS
Genre: Both agents are in love with the other, But they don’t know it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_Muse/pseuds/Purple_Muse
Summary: It's Secret Santa time at NCIS and Tim takes this as opportunity to show a certain SFA how he feels, through a mini scavenger hunt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2016 Secret Santa on NFA community.

Chapter 1

Sat alone at a bar, Timothy McGee absent-mindedly nursed his drink as he tried his best to just ignore the wailing music going on in the background. This wasn’t the type of establishment he was used to. It was more Abby’s environment than anyone else’s. Still, he wanted to come some place different, just so he could think without interruption. 

 

The reason for his melancholy demeanour was currently burning a hole in his pants’ pocket, and the agent shifted on his barstool every so often as if to escape the singe. 

 

Sighing, Tim fished his problem out of his pocket, unfolded it, and read the name once more. Maybe if he read it several times it would spontaneously change and he wouldn’t have to go through with this. 

 

Fat chance of that happening. Tim had lost count of the number of times he had unfolded and read it, the name remained stubbornly the same each and every time. 

 

“What’s got you looking so down in the dumps?” The barman asked as he cleaned up some spilt beer in McGee’s vicinity. “You look as if someone’s told you Santa isn’t real.” 

 

Tim snorted. Oh if only his problem was as simple as that. "I'm starting to wish he was. Perhaps he could help me with my dilemma."

 

The bartender's lips curled up in a friendly, yet know-it-all manner. "Let me guess, you're having trouble picking out a gift for that special someone?"

 

Once again that innocent piece of paper seemed to burn a hole in Tim's pocket.

 

"You could say that," Tim replied. "He took a swig of his beer and cringed at the bitterness of it. "How do you find a gift that says 'Merry Christmas. Oh, by the way, I've loved you almost since we first met?"

 

The bartender pondered for a second. "I'm guessing that you have no idea whether or not this girl thinks of you in the same way, and you're too afraid to ask her."

 

"Change the gender and you've got it in one," Tim replied.

 

Raising an eyebrow, the bartender asked, "do you know if he bats for your side of the fence?"

 

Tim shook his head. "To be honest, no I don't. I've known HIM for a long time though - we work together - and I know he loves the women - loves them a lot - but then again, he loves EVERYONE. And he's always rather touchy feely with me, more than I believe most men would be with each other." 

 

"Sounds to me like you've got two choices: you go on with your life, never knowing what could have been, or you can take a chance and ask him out. What have you got to lose?"

 

Tim sighed. "My pride if he says no, not to mention our friendship could go out the window."

 

"Is this friend of yours the type of person who would walk away from what the two of you currently have if he did not share your feelings?" the bartender asked.

 

Tim pondered for a moment, considering his jovial friend. He remembered the almost-flirting like behaviour Tony seemed have, like the time they were mistaken for a couple at that counselling session and the older man had taken it completely in stride.

Unlike Tim who was highly embarrassed by the situation, but only because it came too close for comfort to his true feelings. 

Holding his head up determinedly, Tim said, "you know what, I don't think he is. Yeah, he teases me a lot, but he's a real good guy." 

 

Fishing his hand inside his pants' pocket, Tim pulled out his wallet. "How much do I you, Sam?"

 

The bartender calculated Tim's tab and replied, "$15.75."

 

Tim removed a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and placed it on the bar. "Keep the change," he smiled. "And for that talk as well."

 

"You're not driving home are you?"

 

Tim shook his head. "Trust me, I've seen the consequences of that too many times to risk it. Besides, I only live a couple of blocks away."

 

Putting on his jacket, Tim made to exit the bar calling, "Merry Christmas," over his shoulder."

 

Outside a light snow was falling. Tim zipped his jacket up as far as it would go, stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, and began the slow walk back to his apartment. 

 

Along the way Tim began to brainwave ideas to himself about what he could get Tony for his Secret Santa gift. The older man had expensive tastes, but he was a romantic at heart. Tim knew this from the various gifts Tony bought into the Bullpen for his dates each evening: perfume, jewellery etc. Once or twice Tim had even seen Tony with football tickets. 

 

Tim was more of a simple man when it came to bearing gifts. As long as he knew that he had put his best efforts into it, and the recipient enjoyed his efforts then that was all that mattered.

 

"Let's see, if I were Tony what would I like?" Tim muttered to himself thoughtfully as he approached a crosswalk. As he went to walk across the street he noticed that the theatre opposite was showing 'It's a Wonderful Life,' one of Tony’s favourite films. He often forced his fellow agents to watch it with him every year around this time. Tim had to admit, though, that he didn't mind. The film had a certain charm to it.

 

Suddenly a light bulb went off above his head as an idea for the perfect gift for Tony began to emerge. It would take a bit of planning but by the end he would have the man exactly where he wanted him.

 

In his arms.

 

He hoped.

.............................................................................

 

Tony was on a mission and he was beginning to think it was impossible.

 

Sauntering over to his partner Ziva's desk, he leant against it and whispered, "come on Zi, you know you want to tell me."

 

Ziva's fingers paused over her keyboard as she gazed up at her fellow agent, her face a picture of annoyance tinged with amusement.  
"It is my understanding, Tony, that Secret Santas were meant to be - as the name implies - secret." The ex-Mossad agent stood up and leant over her desk towards Tony, smiling conspiratorially. "Tell me why I should just hand it over to you on a gold platter?"

 

"Silver," Tony corrected her. "On a silver platter Ziva, and I don't want you to 'hand it over' I just want to know who you picked."

 

"And why is that?" Ziva asked.

 

Tony shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I was just curious, is all."

Letting out a light laugh, Ziva wagged her finger in Tony's face like a scolding teacher. "I do not think so, I think that you are after some one in particular."

 

"And what if I am?" Tony asked.

 

"What is that phrase you Americans like to say; 'I will show you mine, if you will show me yours?'" Ziva pondered, raising a delicate eyebrow.

 

Tony's lips curled up into an amused smirk. "Why Ms. David, I believe we are entering red light territory."

 

"I have seen 'yours' Tony," Ziva replied as she sat back down, "it is less 'red territory,' more a very light amber. Now, if you do not mind, I have paperwork to catch up on."

 

Sighing, Tony removed himself from against Ziva's desk. He stood in the middle of the Bullpen and pondered for a moment, before seemingly coming to decision. Moving across to his desk, he climbed up on top of it, and turned around so he was facing the rest of the room.

"Ok, listen up people!" he bellowed. Several fellow agent's heads jerked up. Ziva rolled her eyes from behind her own desk. "I have on me -" he fished around for his wallet in his pants' pocket and pulled out a wad of cash - "$100 on me for the person who is willing to swap my Secret Santa with whoever has Timothy McGee."

 

There was silence as everyone glanced nervously at each other. Tony sighed and tapped his foot impatiently. "Come on people, one of you must have Timothy McGee as your Secret Santa." He fanned the bills in front of his face. "100 big ones for a swap."

 

"I have McGee," came an oh-so-familiar voice from behind him. Tony spun around, almost falling off his desk in process, and found himself staring down at a silver-haired ex-marine.

 

"Boss!" Tony quickly leapt off the desk, stumbling slightly as he landed. "You really have McGeek? Wanna swap?"

 

" Nope." Gibbs' answer was short and to the point, as per usual.

 

"Boss please, I'm begging you! Well, not literally begging; these are Zegna pants and I can't afford to get them dirty, but the effort is still there!"

 

Gibbs rolled his eyes as he dug around in his pants pocket, pulling out a slip of paper which he then slapped into his SFA’s hand.

"Thanks Boss, you’re the best!" Tony turned to head back towards his desk, but was stopped by Gibbs clearing his throat.

 

"You forgetting something, DiNozzo?" 

 

Tony stared blankly at his boss, the cogs in his brain whirring.

 

"We swapped remember?" Gibbs waved his hand towards Tony, rubbing his fingers together as he did so. "Mine?"

 

"Oh, right!" Tony handed Gibbs his new Secret Santa. "Good luck, Boss, I’m sure you’ll find exactly what he wants."

 

Suddenly suspicious, Gibbs opened up the slip of paper. Reading the name he sighed in frustration.

What the Hell was he supposed to get for Director Vance?

..............................

 

Opening up the cupboard beneath where he kept his typewriter, Tim moved old files and long-forgotten story ideas to one side. At last, right at the back, he found what he was looking for.

 

The battery powered projector hadn’t been used in long time, as evidenced by the build up of dust. Pulling it out, Tim blew off the dust (letting out a couple of loud sneezes as he did so) and set on his desk. With a cloth he gave the machine another clean, making sure to get in any gaps; the machine had to be working perfectly if the idea he had was going to come to fruition.

 

Praying to the heavens above, Tim aimed the projector towards the wall and switched it on. There was a slight humming noise as the machine booted up. 

 

The agent let out a whoop as the machine came on.

 

Phase one was complete: the projector was in working order, time to prepare for phase two.

 

Picking up the phone he dialled a number....


	2. Chapter 2

The phone rang in Tony’s apartment just as the agent was making his way in. Forgoing taking his coat off for the time being, he picked it up and flopped unceremoniously onto his couch.

“Very Special Agent DiNozzo,” he greeted. “Oh, hey, long time no speak.”

There was a brief pause as the person spoke and Tony chuckled briefly before asking, “so did you read it? What did you think?”

As he listened to the reply, Tony found himself nodding in agreement. “Yeah, the kid’s got talent, I’ll give him that. Even if he does use his partners as ‘inspiration.’ Have you signed the book? Written a message? Perfect, you’re the best bud. Do me favour, make sure it gets here by tomorrow, I’ll pay the extra postage and I’ll send you those files you’ve been asking for.”

The person on the other end agreed with Tony’s instructions and the agent bid them goodbye before hanging up. He stood up and removed his coat, draping it carefully on the back of his sofa before sauntering over to where Kate was swimming in her bowl.

Picking up her tub of fish flakes, he sprinkled them into the water. Kate was quick to start picking them off one by one as Tony watched.

“You know, Kate, I think this could be my chance to tell the Probie how I feel,” he whispered to eating goldfish. “I mean, how I really feel. My Secret Santa gift is going to knock his socks off!” 

The agent paused before adding, “I just hope he doesn’t knock my block off when I tell him, otherwise things are going to get really awkward at work.”

Dipping his finger into the bowl, he let Kate gently suck at it in toothless affection. “I knew you would understand how I feel, Katie-pie.”

Removing his finger, Tony wiped it dry on his shirt before moving into his expansive kitchen to find himself a snack.

Opening up his fridge, Tony considered his options before deciding to go for the lazy route and pulling out his left over pizza from last night. Tucking it carefully under his arm, he made sure to also grab beer before ending back into his living room.

As he passed the sideboard he picked up a pile of unwritten Christmas cards before flopping down onto the couch. He opened the pizza box and pulled out a slice, taking a large bite out of the cold snack.

Kicking off his shoes, Tony rested his feet on the coffee table and picked up the first Christmas card. This one had an image of a merry-looking Santa on it sat in a rocking chair next to an open fire, drinking what Tony believed was a glass of Sherry.

Removing his pen from his pocket, Tony opened the card and wrote, “To Boss, Merry Christmas, from Tony. He was tempted to write ‘love from’ just for a laugh, but decided against it; he wanted to live to see the new year.

The next card showed two children building a snowman, giving the cold figure a black scarf and hat along with the traditional coal for eyes. Tony came to the logical conclusion that since Abby liked black then this card would be for her.

Inside he wrote, To my Princess of the Dark, seasons greetings! Love your Very Special Agent, Tony. Ps. Don’t forget the carrots for Rudolph and pals.

The next two cards – two turtle doves, and a Partridge in a pear tree – he wrote for Ducky and Jimmy respectively; a simple ‘Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year’ in each one.

Ziva’s card had an image of the Star of David and the words ‘Hanukkah Greetings’ emblazoned along the top in gold lettering.

Inside the card Tony wrote, To Zi, Happy ‘Festival of Lights,’ shine on my ninja! Love Tony.

Sealing down the envelope of Ziva’s card, Tony added it to the small pile before picking up the final one. This one had a picture of two Robins cuddled together on a snowy tree branch. The message at the top of the card read, ‘To that Special Someone.’

Opening the card, Tony poised his pen to write...and froze. What could he say? This was his chance to tell Tim how he felt. It would be so much more easier for him to pour his heart out with ink than with words. A simple, ‘Merry Christmas. By the way, I’ve been in love with you for a few years now’ didn’t seem to be the right thing to put.

He would just have to wing it...he was good at that.

Dear Tim,  
You know how in ‘Jerry Maguire,’ Renee Zellweger’s character tells Tom Cruise’s Maguire, “You had me at hello?” Well, you had me at “I’ve heard stories about Agent Gibbs.” Not the most memorable first line between two future partners, but I certainly remembered it. God, you were so shy and awkward, and I loved that about you. You were like the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz, and I mean that as a great compliment; you had a lot of courage underneath that stammer of yours. I wanted to make you notice me. So, I guess you could say that I began pulling your pigtails (this isn’t me calling you a girl, by the way) and I pulled a lot of – uh – ‘stunts,’ shall we say, on you. From fake aliens to superglued fingers, to Poison Ivy (though I did try to warn you about that one) you took my pigtail-pulling with not-so-great gusto, and still came back for more. And as time passed I started to realise that I wanted there to be more between us; more than just partners, more than just friends even. I wasn’t kidding when I told that Detective McCadden guy that there was no one better ‘than McGee,” because there is no one better than you.  
I hope that you haven’t ripped this card up by this point (if you haven’t, I appreciate it) because what I’m trying to say is that I....like you, McGee. I really like you. The way Romeo ‘liked’ Juliet, or Chandler ‘liked’ Monica or...you know what I mean. My point is that this card is my way of confessing how I feel about you. I couldn’t say it in words; despite my ‘blabba blabba’ as the Boss likes to say, I just couldn’t find the right words to speak to you, so I’m hoping that this will suffice.  
I know that reading this card must have been kinda strange – difficult even, you’re probably torn between throwing it the trash or using it as ammo against me the next tine I get one up on you. But you know what, I don’t care. Writing this card was worth it. I finally got this confession of my chest, and it feels great.   
Merry Christmas McTinsel, I love you.  
Tony 

Placing the card in the envelope and sealing it down, Tony held the scarlet item in his grasp and just stared at it.

There was no way he could give Tim this card in the middle of the Bullpen. What if he opened it and considered the gesture some sort of prank? No. There was only one thing to do: he would post the card through Tim’s letter box on the way into work tomorrow – after making sure that the Probie wasn’t there, of course.

His mind made up, Tony picked up another Christmas card and inside wrote a simple, ‘Hey, Probester, happy holiday! You’re favourite agent, Tony.’

This card he would give Tim tomorrow. It would look suspicious if he gave them out to the rest of the team and not the Junior agent as well.

Satisfied that his task was done for now, Tony slouched back on its sofa and picked up the TV remote. He switched the contraption on and flicked through the channels, finally settling on some western movie.

Taking another bite out of his cold pizza, Tony got comfortable and let the film enrapture him, trying not to think about what tomorrow would bring.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
The next day found Tim as the second of his team – after the boss – to arrive into the Bullpen. He dropped his bag behind his desk and switched on his computer.  
  
Gibbs was no where to be seen but his jacket was hung over the back of his chair, so Tim presumed that he had gone either gone upstairs to see Vance, or downstairs to Abby and/or Ducky.  
  
The young agent rubbed his eyes, smiling in satisfaction; he had finally set up Tony’s Secret Santa gift. It had taken a few phone calls and a couple of visits to a few locations, but it was finally ready.  
  
And the first part of it had already been delivered to HR, ready for the exchange, later in the afternoon.  
  
The elevator doors opened. Tim looked up to see Tony come rushing through them, though he slowed down slightly when he noticed that the boss wasn’t at his desk.  
  
Spying McGee, Tony greeted him with an ecstatic, “Hey Elford! Ready for the Secret Santa exchange? I know I am! My gift is going to knock the socks off of my guy...or girl.”  
  
As he spoke he placed a Christmas card on McGee’s desk.  
  
Tim shook his head in fond exasperation. “I’m sure it will, Tony. I’ve got my gift ready, don’t worry about that.”  
  
“Don’t suppose you’ll let me in on who yours is for?”  
  
Tim rolled his eyes as brought up an unfinished report on his screen. “You need to look up the definition of the word ‘secret,’ Tony. I’m sure that whoever I give my gift to will be more than happy to share it with you.”  
  
“Share what with who?” came a voice to McGee’s right.   
  
Tim spun around in his seat to find Ziva standing next to his desk.  
  
“Ziva! I didn’t know you were here.”  
  
“I have only just got here, McGee,” Ziva stated as she made her way to her own desk, greeting Tony as she did so. “Who does Tony want to share with?”  
  
“No one,” Tony shook his head as he too powered up his computer.  
  
“That is not very nice, Tony,” Ziva admonished. “What is that saying? ‘Share and share differently.’”  
  
“Alike,” Tony corrected. “It’s ‘share and share alike, Zi.”  
  
“Whatever,” Ziva dismissed the correction as she sat down. “It is still nice to share, no?”  
  
“No. I mean, yes!” Tony replied. “That’s not what we’re talking about.”  
  
“Then what were you talking about?” Ziva asked.  
  
“I’m hoping that you’re talking about how much you’ve finished your reports,” came a voice from on high.  
  
Ziva gave a little jolt of surprise – though to her credit, she reigned it in well. “Gibbs. I did not see you there.”  
  
The leader raised one silver eyebrow in a ‘you don’t say’ expression, and Ziva flushed slightly as she switched on her computer in order to follow in her male comrades’ delightful task of report writing.  
  
The time passed amongst the clacking of buttons. At one point during a moment of tediousness - and a bathroom break on Gibbs’ part – Tony instigated a paper ball war between he and McGee, much to younger agents chagrin – and secret amusement.  
  
The war lasted all of five minutes, coming to end by Gibbs’ hand connecting with an unsuspecting Tony’s head and a command that they stop acting like children. Tony’s question as to why he got a physical reprimanded and the probie didn’t resulted in the SFA having to gas the truck the next time they were called to a scene.   
  
The day passed with a mixture of report writing and cold case studying. Just as Tony was getting up to collect the latest requisition forms from the printer, and preparing to head down to the basement level to give Abby, Ducky, and Palmer their cards, a booming voice echoed across the bullpen.  
  
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!”  
  
There, stood in all his plump glory, was Santa Claus. He strode merrily off of the elevator, carrying a burlap sack over his shoulder.   
  
“You have got to be kidding me,” Gibbs muttered.  
  
Santa stood in the middle of the Bullpen and addressed the people.  
  
“I do hope you’ve all been good little agents.”  
  
“Winston hasn’t,” came a voice from somewhere in the back of the room, “give him some coal.”  
  
“Shut up, Saunders!”  
  
“I have everyone’s Secret Santa gifts here!” the jolly man announced. He reached in and pulled one out, reading the name tag. “Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”  
  
Gibbs raised his eyes to the heavens and muttered a string of quiet profanity as he got up from his desk.  
  
“Have you been a good boy this year?” Santa asked as Gibbs approached him.  
  
The agent gave Santa his patented glare. “What do you think?”  
  
Santa blinked in surprise, suddenly becoming rather nervous. “Uh, well, I’m sure that you’re a decent enough fellow,” he stammered as he handed Gibbs his gift.  
  
The agent had unwrapped his gift by the time he made it back to his desk, tossing the paper into his trash can.  
  
He placed his new bag of instant coffee granules on the corner of his desk with a satisfying thud.  
  
“Anthony DiNozzo” Santa mispronounced Tony’s last name.  
  
“That’s me!” Tony came to stand next to the elderly gentleman. “And before you ask, I’ve been a very good boy this year.”  
  
“I’m sure you have,” Santa chuckled as he handed Tony his gift: a small red envelope.  
  
Tony glanced down at it with a dissatisfied frown. “Is that it?” he asked. “A gift certificate?”  
  
“How do you know it’s a gift certificate?” Santa replied, “you’re haven’t opened it yet; you might be surprised.”  
  
“I doubt it,” Tony muttered as he made his way back you his desk.  
  
From his own desk Tim watched as Tony twirled the envelope in his hand, obviously wondering if he should open it or not.  
  
He was just about to ask Tony if he was going to open it, when his name was called out.  
  
The agent was handed his gift with a smile and a ‘Merry Christmas, Agent McGee.’ Tim thanked him and made his way back to his desk.  
  
“What have you got there?” Tony asked as Tim sat back down, and Ziva got up to collect her gift.  
  
“I don’t know, Tony,” Tim replied. “My X-ray vision isn’t very good.”  
  
The SFA rolled his eyes. “Well why don’t you open it then?”  
  
Tim considered this before shaking his head. “I’m going to open mine later; give myself something to look forward to tonight.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” Tony shrugged as he turned the envelope around and tore it open.  
  
Inside was a small Christmas card with an image of angel. Tony opened up the card up and read the contents:  
  
'Tony, your Secret Santa is not something that you can wrap, but I guarantee that you will love it all the same, and it starts with this:  
Victor wants to talk to you about some booze tonight.'  
  
Tony frowned in puzzlement. Who the hell was Victor? The agent wracked his brain to try and come up with a possible candidate, but failed.  
  
“What are you doing, DiNozzo?” Gibbs demanded, noticing his SFA’s puzzlement.  
  
“My Secret Santa is apparently making me go on a hunt to find my gift,” Tony said. “Do you know who Victor is?”  
  
“What are you talking about, Tony?”  
  
“There’s a clue in my card Boss; ‘Victor wants to talk to you about some booze tonight.’ Who the hell is Victor?”  
  
Gibbs shrugged, “haven’t a clue, DiNozzo.”  
  
Tony frowned. Well that didn’t help.  
  
“Is there not a place called ‘Victor’s Liquors’ down on Georgia Avenue?” Ziva spoke up.  
  
Tony blinked before staring at the writing in his card and then back at Ziva. Suddenly his face broke into a pearly grin.  
  
“Ziva you’re a genius!”  
  
“Thank you Tony, I do my best.”  
  
“Victor’s Liquors,” Tony muttered. “Maybe my Secret Santa got me a nice bottle of Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet.”  
  
Tim snorted softly. “The price that bottle sells at? I don’t think so, Tony.”  
  
“How do you know, McDoubtful?”  
  
“Well, for one thing, the budget for this Secret Santa was twenty dollars,” Tim pointed out. “I admit that you can be a nice guy Tony, but no one is going to spend that much on you.”  
  
Tony had to secretly agree, before he gazed over at Tim. “How much did you spend for your Secret Santa?”  
  
“If you really must know, I spent exactly twenty dollars,” Tim replied. “And no, I’m not telling you on what.”  
  
Tony shrugged, “I’ll find out sooner or later.”  
  
Tim grinned to himself.  
  
‘Yes you will Tony, yes you will.’  
  
---


	4. Chapter 4

Victor’s Liquors was a small shop but provided a variety of alcoholic beverages, from wines to spirits, to all kinds of beers originating from the USA and beyond.   
  
Tony stepped into the store that evening and stood in the middle of the aisle, looking around. There were a few people browsing the store, pick up drinks for parties or perhaps tonight dinner.   
  
“Can I help, Sir?” came a voice from Tony’s left.   
  
The SFA looked around to see a young lady wearing a Victor’s Liquors uniform, smiling at him politely.”   
  
“Hi, yeah.” Tony rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Do you, uh, know anything about this?” He handed his Secret Santa card over to the assistant.   
  
She glanced at it and then asked, “Are you Special Agent Tony DiNozzo?”   
  
Looking rather surprised, Tony replied in the affirmative.   
  
“Excellent! Your Secret Santa said you would be here this evening!” the assistant exclaimed. “Wait right here, I have something to give you.” She turned and started to walk towards the back of the store.   
  
“Do you know who my Secret Santa is?” Tony called out.   
  
“Sorry Agent DiNozzo,” the assistant shrugged apologetically, “I was sworn to secrecy.”   
  
She disappeared into the back room.   
  
A few minutes later she reappeared, carrying a bottle of Blanc de Bleu Cuvee Mousseux champagne. There was a note attached to it.   
  
“It’s already been paid for so it’s all yours,” she handed him the bottle.   
  
Tony took the note off and opened it.   
  
Well done for getting the Champaign. Now, here’s your next clue:  
This place you’ll go for a sugary treat, so delicious it’ll make you sing the B-52’s.   
  
Thanking the assistant for the Champaign, Tony exited the store. Still gazing at the note he climbed into his car, parked on the sidewalk outside.   
  
“The B-52’s are a band,” Tony muttered to himself. “Maybe the person wants me to head to a music shop, but what does that have to do with sugary treats?”   
  
The agent started going through songs by the band in his head: ‘Rock Lobster,’ ‘Planet Claire,’ ‘Love Shack.’   
  
Suddenly he stopped.   
  
“Is there an adult video store named the ‘Love Shack?’” Tony asked himself.   
  
He went over all the adult video stores he could think of in DC but none matched the clue.   
  
“Maybe I should look at the sugary treat part instead.”   
  
Candy was sugary, cakes were sugary, donuts were...   
  
He stopped.   
  
Donuts!   
  
There was a donut shop called the ‘Sugar Shack’ on North Henry Street in Alexandria.   
  
“That  has  to be it,” Tony muttered to himself. He powered up his car engine and took off in that direction.   
  
He was definitely going to be charging the Secret Santa for the gas in his car.   
  
Thirty minutes later he arrived in North Henry Street. Parking his car, Tony headed to the Sugar Shack. It was a rather large building which housed not only some of the best donuts around, but also a cafe where people could sit, chat, and enjoy themselves.    
  
Approaching the counter, Tony spoke to the assistant, a middle-aged man wearing a name badge depicting his identity as ‘Harold.’   
  
“Hey Hal, my friend,” Tony greeted him. “I’m Tony DiNozzo, you don’t happen to know anything about this do you?” he handed over the note.   
  
Reading the note, Harold smiled. “Your Secret Santa said that you were smart.”   
  
“I do my very best,” Tony winked. “So, did you see her? Or him?”   
  
Harold shook his head. “No, they rang up. They did, however, pay for these.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a box of twelve donuts, all different flavours.   
  
Tony practically salivated at the sight, and reached out a hand to select one of the chocolate glazed ones. Before he had a chance to though, Harold closed the lid on him.   
  
“Sorry, Mr DiNozzo, your Secret Santa gave explicit instructions that you wait until you get to your final destination.”   
  
“Final destination, huh?” Tony said. At least it was a quick treasure hunt. “I presume you’ve got a clue for me then?”   
  
“Look underneath the box,” Harold replied.   
  
Raising an eyebrow, Tony carefully lifted the donut box up and peered underneath it. Written on the base were the words:    
  
Here is the final clue, to meet person who really likes you.  
Come to the place you’ve been to many times, it’s been the origin of many a crime.  
I know this might sound macabre, but many a body have been found here.   
  
“Very eloquent,” Tony muttered, before grinning. “And easy too.”   
  
“You know the answer already?” Harold asked.   
  
“Sure do,” Tony nodded, picking up his box of donuts. “There’s only one place it can be.”   
  
“Where’s that?” Harold asked.   
  
“Rock Creek Park.”   
  
.................   
  
It was another thirty-five minute drive, but eventually Tony found himself outside Rock Creek Park. He parked his car up and made his way into the urban park.   
  
A winters night was starting to fall and it was beginning to get dark. Tony had no clue where he was suppose to go, the place was so big, and the note on the donut box had left no inclination as to where he was suppose to meet this Secret Santa.   
  
As he walked through the trees, he suddenly found it odd that McGee hadn’t contacted him. He must have opened and read that card that he had posted through the probie’s door on the way to work this morning. Maybe had frightened the poor agent away, Tony grimaced.    
  
Suddenly in the quietness of the evening, Tony’s phone vibrated with his text message tune.   
  
Pulling out of his pocket, Tony frowned when he realised that the message was from a number he didn’t recognise.   
  
‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,’ Tony thought to himself. ‘After all, many people must have been lured to their deaths this way.’   
  
Except for the donuts, perhaps.   
  
Tony read the message:   
  
‘I know you’ll be in the right place. Come to where the two old trees bend and meet.’   
  
The agent knew exactly where this person meant. Towards the centre of the park, in a more secluded and wooded area, two trees stood side-by-side, their gnarled branches bending towards each other in a sort of twisted embrace.    
  
Making his way to the spot, Tony kept his wits about him. He also kept his hand close to his gun holster, just in case.   
  
When he reached the two trees, Tony blinked in surprise at what lay before him.   
  
A piece of tarp had been tied between the two trees, in front of which stood what looked like a projector. On the grass was a woollen picnic blanket, along with a picnic hamper.   
  
“What  is  going on here?” Tony looked around in confusion at the scenery.   
  
“I read your card.”   
  
Tony almost had a heart attack as he spun around.   
  
“McGee!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter, thanks for reading. :)

 

 

 The Junior Agent smiled warmly at him.

“Hi, Tony.”  
  
The SFA’s mouth dropped open in shocked disbelief.  
  
“ You’re  my Secret Santa!?” he exclaimed.  
  
“Yeah,” Tim replied, suddenly looking rather nervous. “Look, Tony, why don’t we sit down? I have something for you.”  
  
He gently took hold of the older man’s wrist and lead him to sit on the picnic blanket under the moonlight.  
  
“Tony, I have something to need to...to confess,” Tim began. “But before I do, I need you to be honest with me: did you mean what you wrote in that Christmas card you posted through my door this morning?”  
  
At first Tony considered denying the existence of such a card, but realised that it would be pointless. So, he took a deep breath and plunged in.  
  
“Yes, I meant it, every Goddamn cheesy word of it.” He cringed. “God, please don’t hate me Tim.”  
  
Tim shook his head. “I don’t hate you, Tony. In fact, your confession makes what I have to say that much easier.”  
  
“And what’s that?” Tony asked.  
  
Tim smiled and leaned towards the older man, close enough that he was gazing into Tony’s green eyes and could see his own reflection gazing back at him.  
  
“"I've fallen in love. I'm an ordinary man. I didn't think such violent things could happen to ordinary people."  
  
He gently kissed Tony on the lips and then sat back and waited for the reaction.  
  
The older man seemed to be in a trance, and then suddenly his face blossomed into a radiant smile, all pearly white teeth.  
  
“You like me! You really like me!”  
  
He pulled Tim into a bone-crushing hug.  
  
“Brief Encounter with a masculine twist, huh? I’ve taught you well.”  
  
“God, I was so worried that you would hate me for that, uh, confession I wrote,” Tony whispered. “But all this time, all this time...”  
  
“Yeah,” Tim nodded. “I’ve loved you too, I just didn’t know how to say it. But I met this guy at a bar and he convinced me to give it a shot. I mean, what’s the worse that could’ve happened? You tease me about my crush for a while, and then we’d get a case and forget all about it?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have teased you,” Tony protested. “Much.”  
  
Tim his head and smiled. “Yes, you would have. But I was so thrilled when I read that card because I was telling the truth back there, Tony; I really have fallen in love with you.”  
  
“Then we’re on the same turf,” Tony whispered.  
  
As they pulled away from embrace, Tim reached behind himself and picked up his still wrapped Secret Santa gift.  
  
“Haven’t you opened that yet?” Tony asked.  
  
“Nope,” Tim shook his head. “I wanted to wait until you got here.”  
  
“Why? How did you know that gift was from me?”  
  
Tim pointed at the tag. “Number one, I recognised your handwriting, and number two, you called me, ‘McGiftee,’ not many people spend as much time giving me McNicknames as you do, Tony.”  
  
“Oh, damn it!” the SFA smacked his forehead. “It never even occurred to me!”  
  
Tim let out a hearty chuckle as he started to unwrap his gift. The chuckle soon turned into a gasp surprise as he saw the contents of the paper.  
  
Inside were two novels. One was his own latest Deep Six book and the other was the latest novel by Richard Castle.  
  
“Open your novel,” Tony instructed. “The inside cover.”  
  
Tim did as he was told. On the inside of the book, written in black biro, was the message,  'Hey, McGee – or should I call you Gemcity? – Tony said that you were an excellent writer, and I have to say that he was right. You have a lot of talent Kid, I really enjoyed this novel. I hope that you’ll like mine, I heard from a reliable source that you’re a big fan. This here is my latest novel and you’re the first person to receive a copy, signed by yours truly. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed yours. Sincerely Richard – Rick – Castle.'  
  
“Holy shit, you know Richard Castle!” Tim gasped.  
  
“Before she died, my mother and her mother use to go to the same social gatherings. Rick and I used to hang out sometimes and became friends...until I got sent away to boarding school.”

“I never knew that,” Tim whispered.

 "That’s because I never mentioned it,” Tony pointed out. “We went our separate ways later in life, but we keep in contact. Sometimes I send him case files to help with his books and his work at the NYPD.”

“The NYPD? Rick Castle’s a cop?”

Tony shook his head and laughed. “No he isn’t, he’s just ‘volunteering’ there as an amateur detective to get help with his novels.”

“Ah, I see,” Tim said. “Thank you again, Tony. It was a lovely gift.” He leant forward again and gave the elder man another tender kiss in gratitude.

“So,” Tony smiled when Tim leaned back again. “What’s with the projector looking thing?”

“This is a battery powered projector,” Tim explained. “And it’s my gift to you.”

“A projector?” Tony was confused.

“Not the projector itself,” Tim switched the machine on and aimed it towards the tarp, “But what’s on the projector.”

“And what might that be?”

Tim pulled a memory stick out of his pocket and waved it at Tony, before plugging it in to the projector.

“It occurred to me that we haven’t done the annual DiNozzo tradition yet, so I thought we could do it tonight, together.”

Tony stared at the projector as the starting credits for ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ moved on the ‘screen.’ The image was a little light, and occasionally a tiny breeze would ruffle the tarp and blur the image, but the scene was still as mesmerising as if it had been on the big screen.

Sitting beside Tony, Tim popped open the Champaign bottle and poured a couple of glasses, giving one to the other man. He then took a bite out of one of the donuts – without sprinkles, of course.

Sitting side by side, Tim rested his head on Tony’s shoulder as they watched the film together.

“Merry Christmas, Tony.”

“Merry Christmas McGee....did you bring the popcorn?”

Tim smiled and handed Tony the bowl.

The two men still had a lot to talk about, but for now they were content to sit together on the picnic blanket and watch the antics of the residents of Bedford Falls.

END

 


End file.
